The Way Wounds Heal
by Chibi-Koibito
Summary: What if during the Revolution Kenshin had been ordered to do more devilish things like killing everyone in Tokyo? Well it did on accident and now Kenshin is paying for it. His mind is in conflict and confusion with its self. He finds a lone survivor in To


This story popped in my head the other day while I was thinking about my updates. It is a lot darker than my others but I really like the story. This time I will go down a different route. I hope it turns out like I want it to. Read on guys and review so I know what you think.

I hope this makes up for me taking so long on my other stories. I apologize for that you guys. Plus I am also putting on tonight, my first Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfiction. Read it and tell me what you think of it too. If you want to that is.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, but I do the story idea so please do not hurt this 16 year old.

Chapter 1- Death and a Meeting

A lone sword stood in the ground of the demolished city of Tokyo. Light from the moon and left over cinders from the burning buildings reflected off its bloody edges. Its now dull blade still cut through the wind as it blew across the rubble filled city.

The red haired teenager looked over the destruction that he had caused in pure horror. This had been his job, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The entire city had been destroyed and the people killed just to get rid of a major portion of the Shinsengumi. He knew they would have done the same to get rid of him but had it really been necessary?

Only above the wind could a slight whimpering noise be heard. It was a young ladies cry of what the samurai could tell. She was somewhere in the rubble probably all alone and in the middle of this hell he had created.

Usually he would have returned to the Choshu headquarters but something inside of him made him go towards the girl's voice. Maybe it was the memories of his past compelling him to do so. Or maybe . . . it was something else.

As the boy walked towards the voice he passed all the dead, burnt bodies of the innocent victims. Most of them were children, men, and women, but only a smaller number were the ones he had been ordered to kill. It was hard to make out what most of them were anymore and the smell of burnt skin was horrid.

Shoving aside the feeling of wanting to vomit, he pressed on and continued to follow the voice. The girl's voice became weaker and more desperate as the samurai grew closer to the center of the old town. He shoved his emotions aside as the scenes grew more grotesque and her cries of anguish grew worse.

The samurai reached the source of the noise. A gasp escaped his mouth and he took a slight step backward. In the remains of what must have been a rich family's home, there were two dead bodies of a husband and a wife, covered in blood, cinders, and the petals of falling cherry blossoms.

A girl in her mid-teens sat beside the bodies leaning over them and crying to herself. Her kimono was cut, worn, and burnt from the fire that had helped kill her parents. The girl held her parents hands in hers as if expecting them to squeeze and tell her that they were alright.

Something held the red haired nineteen year old in a frozen state. He couldn't move or even think. His heart rate was strangely irregular.

To his surprise the girl looked up from her mourning. Her face turned towards him and she looked at his sword sheath and then his face. Pure hatred filled her blue eyes as she stared at the samurai.

"YOU! You did this! You and your stupid war did this to them!" The girl said standing up.

In her anger of getting no response from the horrified samurai the sixteen year old girl stormed up and put herself an inch from her enemy's face. She showed no fear but instead anger and determination. Blood seeped from a gash on her head and her raven hair stuck to her sweaty face.

"What right did you and your companions have to burn a city with thousands of people in it? Explain that to me! I am a trained girl in swordsmanship and if I have to defend my parent's bodies and myself I will!" While she said this she grabbed the samurai's gi top and started to shake him slightly.

The young samurai put his small hands over the girl's tinier ones and shook his head closing his eyes. This stunned the girl at the sight of his sad face. His hands didn't at all feel like murderer's hands but instead like a soft kind and gentle person's hands that had never touched a sword.

"I . . . . didn't mean for all . . . these people to die. I had no idea . . . that they were going to have the city burned. Please believe me. I had no part in the burning of this place. But I don't blame you if you hate me for what I did do. In a lot of ways this is my entire fault. All of these innocent lives stolen away because of only a few needed by my superiors." The samurai said quietly.

This made the girl falter even more. His voice was kind and sad. It did not match his golden piercing eyes. Plus he truly seemed like he was sorry and that he wished this hadn't happened. What was she supposed to do now? Her vision was getting blurry from the loss of blood and her thoughts were fuzzy and unclear.

She quickly realized that his hands were still touching hers and she pulled them away. When she took a step back she stumbled and nearly fell. The young boy was quick and held out his hand if she needed to grab it.

In her anger and frustration the sixteen year old pushed away his hand and turned back towards her parents.

"I don't need your help! You are . . . not supposed to be . . . like this anyway. You're a murderer and have no feelings. You're not supposed . . . to care." The girl snapped. After she said it though, she felt a pang of guilt for calling him that. But it was true though. He was a Hitokiri and her parents were dead.

Suddenly her legs gave away and she fell only inches from her parents.

"Miss!" the samurai said running over to her side. He checked her pulse and sighed. She was still living and had only passed out from her wounds. That was a relief to him. For some reason he felt a connection to the girl. It was as if she was a sign that there was still hope for survivors. That maybe the Choshu had not killed everyone.

The boy gently put the girl in his arms. He had decided to tend to her wounds and take care of her. If she wanted to hate him and leave after she awoke that was fine with him. But he owed her this much and probably much more than that.

Looking around the burnt ruins for a left over cloth or something of the sort he found a charred sign. It must have rested outside of their door. The words read: Kamiya Household and Dojo- Master Kamiya, Mistress Kamiya, Daughter and Assistant Master Kamiya Kaoru.

'Now I know the girl's name.' the samurai thought to himself with some pleasure and sadness at the thought of her parents. 'What little good it will do though.' This gave him an idea none the less. He gave a rare smile down at girl in his arms. Maybe giving her parents graves would help him and her feel some better.

Finding what he was looking for he headed out of town and into the opening of the nearby forest. Setting the girl down and putting the blanket around her he started making a sheltered area for her so the chilled wind would not worsen her wounds. Once he had finished he would head back down to the city and start the clean up.

Before he left he looked at the young girl with an expressionless face.

"I forgot to tell you my name Kaoru-dono, the name of the sinner whom you have reason to hate. Who all have reason to hate. It is Kenshin. Himura Kenshin. Hitokiri Battousai."


End file.
